


today is a diamond

by etoilette



Series: AU-gust 2020 [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilette/pseuds/etoilette
Summary: “I’m not a very memorable type of guy.”Akechi tilts his head and stares at Ren, looking him up and down. Ren has to resist the urge to hide his chest with the tray, worried that he would send the bowl still on it crashing to the ground.“I think you’re more memorable than you give yourself credit for.”ORAkechi and Ren's chance meetings over the course of a day, and the start of something new.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: AU-gust 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860436
Comments: 3
Kudos: 114





	today is a diamond

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Prompt #2 of AU-Gust: College AU. This one was a frustration to write because I realized like two better ideas half-way through but by that point I was already way too deep. There really isn't much that happens in this.
> 
> I was so stuck on the title! It is from Yakuza 6 and the only reason I chose a song from Yakuza 6 is because I can only get my Matsuya fix from Yakuza games now orz. This one is a lot tamer and "less" than yesterday's but trust me, if you want that quality every day from me....I won't be able to finish this month.

It’s practically routine for Ren and his friends to have a miniature picnic in Shinobazu Pond, right outside of Tokyo University campus, after their classes. Not everyone goes to the same university, but Shinobazu Pond is smack in the middle of everyone’s general area of operations. It’s a stroke of luck that their schedules match up as well, compared to the previous semester when almost no one could meet up face-to-face.

Sometimes not everyone can make it thanks to outside responsibilities, and sometimes they have to huddle together elsewhere due to rain or summer heat. But thanks to the early fall climate it’s been chilly and dry and perfect for the past week. Ren sits down on a bench, stirring a bento box of homemade curry, as he listens to his friends chat about anything and everything.

It isn’t that he doesn’t have anything to say, but he finds it strangely relaxing to let the conversation flow over him. He listens to Ryuji complain about how Mishima has been pestering him on Line to go with him to a mixer. He nods along when Haru excitedly gushes about how the secret herb garden in her dorm bathroom have sprouted. He laughs when Yusuke regales them with a tale of how he dropped his croquette, almost came to blows with a street dog over it, and ended the day with a new furry friend.

“And how about you, Ren?” Yusuke asks at the end of his story, sipping from his water bottle. “Have there been any changes in your life?”

“Nah,” Ren says with a shake of his head and an apologetic smile. “Same old, same old.”

“Man!” Ryuji yells, and he swings his arm around Ren’s shoulder, ruffling the curly black hair. “Dude, you  _ never _ have anything going on outside of school and work. You used to be so much more fun in high school.”

“Ryuji!” Ann hollers, slapping her hand down on the picnic table. “You can’t just  _ say _ that to people. Apologize to Ren.”

“It’s fine,” Ren says hurriedly before Ryuji could say anything. “He’s right.”

Ren really is just working and studying now, so focused on getting good grades so he can graduate and get a job that’ll  _ finally _ stop him from being so dependent on his controlling family. The remainder of his salary from his part-time job at Boku no Peko, after expenses for food and the occasional night out, is stored in a small savings account, meticulously counted every weekend. He still has more than 70% of his goal to reach before he can finally say that he is an independent, but the smooth and steady pace gives him hope that he can be his own man by the time he graduates.

The downside to living his life as safe as possible, of course, is that he is completely out of the loop when it came to things his friends do outside of school and their after-school picnics. 

Before Ren can continue assuring Ann that Ryuji wasn’t out of line, Ryuji growls low in his throat, “It’s  _ him _ again.”

Ryuji’s head is turned to somewhere behind them, and Ren follows his eyeline, to the entrance of the park. A tall young man, looking to be around their age, carrying a briefcase with an A. on it, is walking briskly down the path. He is remarkably good-looking even from a distance, with dark sandy-brown hair and dark russet eyes. He is dressed in a way that makes Ren instinctively want to push him  _ — _ a sweater vest, a button-up shirt, and slacks. When the man glances over at them, a cold look enters his eyes. His lips curl in an unmistakeable sneer and Ren feels his heart catch in his throat.

The man doesn’t say anything, and neither does Ryuji, but he does nod a greeting at Makoto, who returns it briskly. Without any stopping or hesitation, he continues to walk until he is hidden by the low-hanging branches and leaves of the park’s trees.

“Who was that?” Ren asks, since no one seems inclined to explain anything.

“Akechi Goro,” Makoto sighs, “one of the top students in the law faculty. He was in my statistics class last year and we didn’t really get along.”

“No one can get along with a prissy stuck-up asshole like him,” Ryuji sniffs, ignoring Ann’s disapproving look in his direction. “All he cares about is grades and money.”

“How do you  _ know _ ?” Ann asks, her tone scathing. “Have you ever actually talked to him?”

“Well no,” Ryuji says. He scratches the back of his head. “But he’s the top student of the law majors, like Makoto said! Only assholes are law majors.”

“Mako-chan was a law major,” Haru says brightly. She has a sunny smile on her face as she sips tea from her pink thermos. “Are you trying to say something, Ryuji-kun?”

Immediately, Ryuji backs off, letting Ren go finally and laughing loudly for much too long. “O-of course not, Haru. Makoto  _ was _ a law major, right? So uh, she’s not an asshole anymore.”

It is clear from the unimpressed look in Makoto’s eye and unwavering smile on Haru’s face that Ryuji did not say the right thing at all, but before he can beg for his life, Yusuke clears his throat and sets down the last of his jagarico on the table.

“I am not one to give much credence to rumours. However, I have heard through some sources that Akechi has been funnelling funds away from the company he interns at and into his own pocket. There are also rumours that he got that coveted internship through nepotism, rather than any merit of his own.”

“For someone who says he doesn’t listen to rumours, you sure know a lot about them,” Makoto points out. “Have you been talking to that Navi person online again?”

Yusuke looks away. Ren also looks away surreptitiously; when he introduced Futaba to Yusuke so that Yusuke could get new inspiration for his art via her anime figurines, he really didn’t expect the two of them to be in heavy correspondence even behind his back. He lowkey wants to ask what Yusuke’s intentions are towards his pseudo-sister, but it has been pretty great living in blissful ignorance.

“There was a leak, if I recall,” Haru says. “I remember reading on the news about how the Shido Organization lost billions of yen that was supposed to go to a charity for homeless shelters, but it went to a charity for underprivileged children instead. There was no evidence given in the leak that Akechi-kun had anything to do with it.”

“Navi—”

“Well, I don’t want to talk about rumours!” Ann says, kicking her feet up so it hits the underside of the picnic table. The rickety wooden structure groans and wobbles, and Ren hurriedly reaches out to steady his water bottle before Ann could topple it over. “It’s not fair to talk about Akechi behind his back.”

Ren is about to agree with Ann when a familiar buzzing interrupts him. He pulls his phone out of his back pants pocket and groans low in his throat at the message  _ Can you come in today?  _ flashing up at him from his lock screen.

“What is it, Ren-kun?” Haru asks.

“It’s work,” Ren says. He thumbs open the message and reads it out loud, “Can you come in today? Kashima is sick and we need someone manning the front.” Even before he tells his friends his decision, he begins to pack up his food.

Ryuji immediately leaps to his feet, an indignant expression on his face. “Bro, you’re just gonna go? Just say you’re sick too!”

“I work tomorrow so if I say I’m sick today, I might get taken off my shift,” Ren points out. “Besides, we usually get double pay if we fill in for someone on a day we’re not supposed to work.”

“That’s an amazing workplace,” Yusuke comments. “Are you perhaps hiring?”

“I really don’t think you would be a good fit for the gyudon restaurant,” Makoto sighs. 

Yusuke rounds on her, an intense look in his sharp eyes, but before he can demand to know exactly  _ why _ he would not be a good employee for Boku no Peko, Ren throws out his goodbyes and apologies and promises to hang out another day. 

Ren’s work schedule is every weekday except for Wednesday. Outside of his work hours, he tends to avoid Boku no Peko, preferring to find cheap food elsewhere. It isn’t that he hates his work or he hates gyudon, but it’s more the fact that he spends hours almost every day reeking of beef and oil, absolutely miserable on his feet, that he can hardly eat at the restaurant without instant flashbacks to some of the worst shifts in his life.

He changes into his uniform, stuffs his belongings into a locker, and bows politely at his manager’s flustered thanks and promises of extra pay. Wednesday afternoons are just as busy as any other day, and he is immediately thrown into the fray, taking orders and throwing together gyudon after gyudon after gyudon. Once in a while, someone interesting will walk in and order a chashu don or even a garlic butter chicken don. But all in all, it’s nothing special.

Nothing special, until at approximately 7:02 P.M., two hours into Ren’s shift, when he spies a familiar mop of brown hair walk into the store. Though Ren only saw him briefly earlier that day, there is no mistaking that face and those eyes. It’s Akechi.

He can’t duck down, since that’s not professional, but he also doesn’t want Akechi to recognize him as ‘Makoto and Ryuji’s friend’ and leave. He isn’t a hundred percent sure about Akechi’s personality, but based off the reactions of his friends, it certainly isn’t a pleasant one. The grouchy look on his face and the bags under his eyes don’t lend much to the theory of “maybe he’s actually a really nice guy.”

Akechi turns away to set down his bag and hang his jacket off the back of his seat, and Ren jumps at the chance. Keeping his head down, he snatches up the order ticket (a mapo don) and rushes back to finish up the growing backlog of orders. 

“Here you are,” he says, placing the mapo don in front of Akechi when he finally gets to his order.

“Thank you,” Akechi says, but it seems like it’s on autopilot. He doesn’t even look up at Ren. He piles up a miniature mountain of ginger on the food (gross) and shovels it into his mouth in a way that does not match his appearance or Ryuji’s description at all. Ren has never seen a “prissy” person swallow mouthfuls of rice without chewing before.

The bustle of the dinner rush makes Ren completely forget about Akechi, bussing trays of food around and dealing with transactions. It isn’t until almost 8:30 P.M., when he can finally take a breather, that he sees Akechi still sitting there, thumbing through a worn paperback simply titled  _ Ethics _ , a scowl on his face. His tray is still in front of him and he is the sole customer left in the store, not that he seems to notice.

Ren hurries over and bows deeply in apology, knowing that his manager checks the security tapes of the store frequently. “I am so sorry for not clearing away your tray.”

Akechi looks up at him, his eyes round with surprise before they narrow again. He waves his hand dismissively. “It’s fine.”

Ren takes the tray and holds it, but doesn’t leave just yet. Akechi’s attention is already back onto his book. Does Akechi not recognize him? It makes sense - he’d walked past them very quickly, sparing the briefest of looks in their direction, and Ren isn’t exactly a memorable-looking sort of guy. He’d been nervous for nothing. 

But Ren hovered for a second too long. Right as he is about to turn away to wash Akechi’s bowl, Akechi looks up, an eyebrow raised. “Is there still something you need from me?”

As a literature student, Ren is trained in the art of syntax and conversation. He can chat with anyone, and answer any question. So of course, he is able to give Akechi the highly intelligent response of “Uh. Whatcha reading?”

Ren didn’t think it possible, but the arched eyebrow rises even more. It’s impressive how much command Akechi has over his face. He raises the book slightly and tilts it so Ren can read the  _ Ethics _ title much easier.

“Ah, ethics,” Ren says. “Good and bad, and all that. Why’re you reading that if you’re a law major?”

Akechi’s eyes narrow suspiciously and he slams the book onto the table. “And just how do you know that?” he says sweetly. Ren has heard this exact tone before from Haru whenever she is seconds away from losing her temper.

“I’m friends with Makoto,” Ren explains honestly, holding a hand up in the universal sign of peace, “and she told me after you walked past us in the park.”

“Hm. I didn’t see you.”

“I’m not a very memorable type of guy.”

Akechi tilts his head and stares at Ren, looking him up and down. Ren has to resist the urge to hide his chest with the tray, worried that he would send the bowl still on it crashing to the ground. 

“I think you’re more memorable than you give yourself credit for.”

What? What does that even mean?

“But you didn’t remember me,” Ren points out.

Akechi does not grace that with a reply. He takes a sip of his tea instead.

Sensing that he isn’t going to get an answer, Ren presses, “So why  _ are _ you reading about ethics if you’re a law major.”

“I’m taking an ethics course this year to broaden my horizons,” Akechi says with a light shrug. “This is my personal opinion, of course, but I believe that most people should take a course or two on ethics anyway. STEM majors in particular.”

“Oh?” Ren says. He lightly tosses the tray and bowl into the sink and leans against the cold metal. “Why is that?”

“I don’t think I need to tell you about the failings of capitalism. In their blind pursuit of profits, they leech away the heart and soul of the workers. Any money that could go to bettering the infrastructure of the company is squirreled away into offshore accounts. Corporations are...“

God, it’s worse than he thought. Eating habits aside, Akechi really is as prissy as Ryuji says. Ren turns on the faucet and starts to wash Akechi’s bowl, noting absentmindedly at how clean it was, compared to the grains of rice usually coated liberally on bowls left behind by customers.

He drones on and on, talking about inflation (not the sexy kind), undeserved promotions (nepotism would fall under that, wouldn’t it?), and mistreating employees (sorry Haru but boycott Big Bang Burger). It’s all things that Ren knows a good amount about, but he gets the feeling that Akechi isn’t looking for a discussion at the moment. Rather, he senses that perhaps Akechi has just jumped on the opportunity to flant his intelligence and his admittedly very nice smooth voice. 

“...public image. Donating to charity is a large part of that, as well as the tax break. There is a particular company in Japan that donates large amounts of money to charities every three months, but the so-called charities are merely shell corporations of the company’s investments, so no one is actually benefitting except the higher-ups.”

Wait.

Ren focuses on Akechi, who is drinking the last dregs of his tea. “What did you say?”

Akechi sets the cup down and blinks up at him, in an act that is a little too innocent to be genuine. “About what?”

_ I have heard through some sources that Akechi has been funnelling funds away from the company he interns at and into his own pocket,  _ Yusuke had said.

_ I remember reading on the news about how the Shido Organization lost billions of yen that was supposed to go to a charity for homeless shelters, but it went to a charity for underprivileged children instead,  _ Haru had said.

“Did you steal money from the company you intern at and give it to a real charity?” Ren wants to ask. But something tells him that this is a particular sleeping dog that he should let lie. For now.

Perhaps sensing that Ren has nothing interesting to say or offer, Akechi sighs and says, “Well, thank you for the meal. I apologize for staying so long after I finished. Ethics are just so interesting to read about.”

“Ethics rock,” Ren says agreeably, “and it’s fine. There won’t be another rush until much later when the salarymen come by after drinking.”

“Ah, yes,” Akechi wrinkles his nose. It’s an ugly expression but somehow, he makes it look cute. “I certainly do not want to get caught up in that.” 

He nods curtly, grabs his bag and jacket, and walks towards the door. Right before he leaves, he turns and gives Ren a quick wave, and then with a bright jingle from the automated doors, he is gone, swallowed up by the Shibuya night.

Ren finishes the rest of his shift in relative peace, goes home right on time at 10:00 P.M. Akechi is boring, if he is honest. He talks too much for his own good without any consideration for what the other person might be feeling. Just because he eats like an uncivilized caveman doesn’t he isn’t prissy, and he supposes he has to mentally apologize Ryuji for doubting his word. 

Yet somehow, he can’t stop imagining Akechi dressed in a black catsuit, plugging a USB into a computer late at night in the office, having snuck in via the vents. He knows, of course, that Akechi probably did not do that, if he really is the one who re-directed the money, but it is a very good fantasy. 

The next day, early in the morning, Ren waits outside by Sanshiro Pond, his hands deep in his pockets and his neck bundled up in an itchy scarf, eager for any warmth he can get. It takes a while before he sees Akechi off in the distance, wearing a sweater vest (a different colour than the previous day), a button-up shirt, and a pair of slacks. 

Does he dress the same every day? God.

Ren hurries over, his right hand near crumpling the paper in his pocket. Akechi is not looking at where he is going, his gaze focused on his phone, and it is laughably easy to just run right into him, almost bowling him over.

“Ack!” Akechi exclaims, but he manages to keep his footing and his grip on his phone. “Ex _ cuse _ me, but  _ —  _ Amamiya-kun?”

“Sorry about that,” Ren laughs airily. “I’m so clumsy. I didn’t see you there. Are you alright? I don’t think I hurt you, did I?” He reaches out with his hands and pats Akechi down, surreptitiously shoving the paper into Akechi’s pants pocket. 

Akechi shakes his head, still looking stunned, as if he thought Ren was an NPC who resides only within the walls of Boku no Peko. “No, I’m fine, but what are you doing here?”

“Just enjoying Sanshiro Pond,” Ren says and he takes an exaggerated inhale. The chilly fall climate freezes his lungs and he resists the urge to cough. “L-love our campus.”

“Right,” Akechi says slowly. “Well, I’m going to my classes now, so I suppose I’ll see you at Boku no Peko the next time I want fast food.”

Gyudon is not fast food, but before Ren can say so, Akechi gives him a quick nod, and he stalks off once more. His hands do not go towards his pants at all. Ren suddenly wonders if Akechi is the type of person to check their pants pockets before he tosses them into a washing machine.

He gets his answer two hours later, when he is desperately trying to keep his eyes open during a lecture on Chinese classics, he feels a buzzing in his coat pocket. 

> [81-90XXX-XXXXX]: You aren’t as sneaky as you think, Amamiya-kun. 


End file.
